I guess I should start by explaining that by irony, I mean the Alanis Morisette “Isn’t It Ironic” type (google it, young’ns)that is less irony in a literary method sense than it is just unfortunate. And kinda pissy.
Since we are talking about misfortune and general pissiness I’m sure many of you have already guessed who this post will be about: POS BIL.
He hasn’t been a major player in the Hamakko drama lately, mostly because he’s been travelling a lot for work and just avoiding us in general.
But now Japan, Inc has kind of slowed to a snail’s pace in order to observe the coming of the New Year. We’ve been coming and going from the in-laws’ place a lot, and up in Niini’s face more than the manufacturer recommends.
But last night was just kind of weird.
One of the traditions here is to eat long soba noodles on New Years Eve. There’s probably even a reason for it, although none of the residents of this household can remember it.
BIL is allergic to soba. We all know this; it isn’t a huge problem.
The other day, he came in and started bellyaching that he didn’t want to be the only one having a different kind of noodles and that everyone should eat udon instead.
Um, we do that every year. And have for at least the last ten years, so… (?_?)
He was in disagreeable mode, though, so nothing anyone could say would convince him there wasn’t a great Soba Conspiracy going on behind his back.
The big noodle day comes, and MIL fixes udon according to his Majesty the Oldest Son’s specifications.
And then POS BIL doesn’t show up.
Even though he lives here.
So, um, that was kind of ironic.
He did rock up later, but still.